Reckless Abandon
by Brooklyn-Storm
Summary: Brook and Holland have always known each other. After Holland joins the military and Brook undergoes a suspicious operation, will things ever be the same?
1. Chapter 1

Grace stood on her board barefoot, face to face with Holland, who was standing on the ground. She was lifted about four inches up by her board, and he couldn't help but smile as he turned his own on.

She leaned forward as he started running beside her, then threw his board and jumped on. They were racing home today, and she was winning.

Grace turned around to look for him, but he wasn't there. When she turned back, she was losing. He had jumped over her while she wasn't looking.

She groaned as she crouched low on her board and shot forward, almost loosing her grip. Holland was laughing now, knowing he was going to beat her again.

He didn't turn like she always did; his view was focused on the gate, their finish line.

Grace was smaller than he was, so she had less resistance, but Holland was older and more experienced. While Grace constantly fell over and tripped, Holland was graceful on his long legs. Holland had a lingering knee injury, and Grace was in perfect health. They were equal as they flew through the air on the trapar waves.

Grace squatted low on her board and sped up as she gained height and aimed to go over Holland's seventeen-year-old head. She stood when she was just above him, and then rapidly fell onto her board, shooting forward like a bullet.

Holland heard her and shot his hand upward, catching her board just as it went over his head. The inertia that Grace had betrayed her; she fell forward off her board and toward the ground rapidly. She covered her face with her arms and waited for the impact.

Holland let her board fall to the ground and caught her in his arms, barely missing a beat. On instinct, Grace linked her arms around his neck. When she opened her eyes, Holland was setting her down on his board and pulling her close to him as she spread her arms to keep balance.

Grace shifted her weight to turn the board around, and her best friend moved with her. They moved as one as they maneuvered over the landscape back towards Grace's board.

When they got to it, Grace hopped off, stumbling as she touched the ground. Holland laughed as he stepped off and ran his hand through his hair. She looked at him and smiled.

"I can't believe you," She spat.

His eyebrows pulled together above his nose. "Why?"

"Two reasons." She squatted next to her orange board. "One: You race dirty." He laughed shortly. "Two: You're eighteen in two days." Her voice dropped when she spoke it, and he knew she was upset.

The air between them filled with silence as Grace's board lifted into the air and she stepped on. As she glided by him, Holland grabbed her wrist. She stopped and looked into his too-calm eyes.

"Come over tonight. I need to tell you something." His words were soft yet blunt. His eyes matched it.

She managed a nod, knowing something she wasn't going to like was about to happen.

When he released her, she was gone in a flash, racing him to the gate. She won of course.

She went home then, not stopping at all until she reached the door. When she did, she stepped off her board and opened the door as quietly as she could. Her roommate would still be in bed, hung over from the previous night.

She closed the door, her board under her arm, and turned around. Julie was standing behind her, a bag of ice on her head and a scowl on her face.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asked calmly.

Grace froze. She noticed the bruise under Julie's right eye. "With Holland. What happened?"

She shrugged. "You didn't hear me fall down the steps this morning?"

Grace laughed, shook her head, and ran up the steps, two at a time. She walked down the hall and into her room, where she set an alarm for seven o'clock, and fell asleep.

Eight hours later, her alarm blared into a dreamless sleep. She got up, changed her clothes, and lifted out of her window and to Holland Novak.


	2. Chapter 2

Grace floated on the trapar waves easily and went in through the open window of Holland's bedroom on the second floor of the mansion. The first time she had seen it, she had been struck silent. The room was as big as her house.

Now, as she glided in, it was just his bedroom. The big bed, the lifting boards all around the walls, it was all normal. Not a hair out of place.

Holland was reading a book on his bed. He peered over the top when she hopped off her board and leaned it against the wall. She sat next to him. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," she said back equally. "What's up?"

He took and deep breath, stood up, and began pacing. He ran his fingers through his silver hair like he did when he was stressed. "I…" He started.

She furrowed her brow. "Holland what's going on?"

He looked her dead in the eye, silencing her. She could tell he was in such pain just from those eyes.

"I love you, Grace."

She smiled and blushed. "I love you too. I always have." She looked up just in time for him to press his lips to hers, twelve years of waiting finally over for Grace.

She fell back on the bed she had slept in so many times when she was injured or upset. He followed her down, letting her arms wrap around him tightly. It was white-hot, unbridled passion. He opened his mouth as she did the same and they began to explore each other for the very first time.

He moved her head to the pillows and she let him feel her toned abdomen, put to the test by his tough training regimen. The calluses on his rough hands almost scratched her sun-kissed, soft skin as he removed her shirt. Her hands explored his body as he pulled away and stared into her face as her eyes remained closed. She smiled at him and opened her eyes.

In her eyes, everything was wrong.

The smile dropped from her face as if he had slapped her. She muttered something, but Holland picked out the word _leaving_.

"Gracie..." he started. He didn't know what to say because she could always see right through him.

She pushed him hard away from him and got up from the bed, her half-naked body trembling slightly all over as she said, "Don't call me that!"

"Grace, you have to understand…" He had no idea what to say.

She turned towards him, tears welling in her emotive, angry lavender eyes he so adored. "Understand what? That you're leaving to the military and you're not coming back?" She took her shirt off the bed and slipped it over her bed and took hold of her board. "I'm out of here." She walked towards the door, but he was too fast.

Before she knew it, Holland was holding her shoulders, not letting her move. "You aren't going anywhere. This is my last night in this town. This might be the last time I ever see you."

She tried to shove him again but he wasn't moving. He pulled her against his chest, and she didn't struggle but melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and biting her lip to keep from crying.

"Don't go…" she whispered.

He hugged her tighter. "I have to, Grace. I've made a commitment."

She stomped hard on his foot and he didn't move, although his toe was now broken. She wriggled out of his grasp and started screaming.

"You promised you'd never go! We talked about those military _dogs_ every night for years! You _hate _the Military!" Tears streamed down her face because she knew this wasn't changing anything; he was still going to leave in the morning.

He walked forward and kissed her hard as the lights automatically went out, as they always did, at 11:30 PM. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she sobbed and kissed him. He swept an arm under her legs and held her in his arms. He carried her to the bed and laid her there gently. He removed his shirt and fell beside her.

As clothes fell to the floor, he stopped and whispered to her, "You know I won't be here in the morning."

Her eyes opened and those lavender eyes caught the moonlight in the most beautiful way. "Shut up, Holland."


End file.
